


edgeworth meets little fletch

by stupidsensitivecoward



Series: Little Fletch [2]
Category: 56 Halton Lane, Original Work
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, M/M, Non-Sexual Age Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:33:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27564595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stupidsensitivecoward/pseuds/stupidsensitivecoward
Summary: Edgeworth and Fletcher have just completed their mission. They're drinking and Fletcher's a complete lightweight. Need I say more?
Relationships: Edgeworth/Ian Fletcher
Series: Little Fletch [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2006098
Kudos: 5





	edgeworth meets little fletch

Edgeworth had quickly become part of the humongous family at SIS in the first few months he’d worked there, welcomed by everyone. There was one agent who he got on spectacularly well with – agent 033. Ian Fletcher. Edgeworth and he had formed an unbreakable bond, despite their stark differences. Fletcher spent most of his time being immature and childish, but on the job, he was a bloody good agent and got things done.  
It wasn’t until a few weeks ago that Edgeworth realised why Fletcher acted so childlike.

-

It had been a long mission, one that Edgeworth had been dragged out for. He and Fletcher currently sat at a hotel bar, each with a stiff drink in hand. Fletcher seemed to be considerably pissed, falling over his words and finding every small thing Edgeworth did hilarious. It was a rarer sight than you’d think – as far as agents go, Fletcher was responsible when he drank, so seeing him slipping off the barstool was a shock to Edgeworth.  
Edgeworth put a hand out to help the agent regain his balance. Fletcher called for the bartender to refill his glass, but Edgeworth stopped him.  
“I think that’s enough, Fletcher.”  
Fletcher pouted. Pouted, for God’s sake. He tried to call the bartender once more, but Edgeworth grabbed his wrist.  
“Ian. That’s enough. We’ve got an early flight tomorrow, and I don’t want you in my ear about a hangover.” Edgeworth sighed. Fletcher was a complete lightweight, and the morning after was never good.  
Fletcher whined slightly but pushed his glass away with a clumsy hand.  
“That’s it, bud,” Edgeworth praised. “I’m heading up to the room. You going to stay down here or come with?”  
“With,” Fletcher mumbled quietly. Edgeworth stood up, expecting Fletcher to follow. Instead, the older stayed slumped on the barstool, staring at the bottles lining the wall behind the bar.  
“Fletcher?” Fletcher jumped, turning to face Edgeworth.  
“I’m there, I’m there,” he repeated, shaking his head and standing up abruptly. He stumbled slightly, but Edgeworth kept him on his feet. 

Edgeworth led him down the hallway to the lift. The burning stench of alcohol followed the two into the elevator, which was lined with mirrored walls. Fletcher was instantly mesmerised by his own face and looked incredibly proud of himself as he waved a hand up and down. He giggled, then remembered that Edgeworth was there and went quiet. Edgeworth couldn’t know he was a little, even if his reflection was really cool.  
Edgeworth watched Fletcher’s movements, intrigued.  
The lift gave a small ‘ding’ as the doors opened, and Edgeworth stepped out. Fletcher belatedly followed him, taking in the lavishly decorated hallway and the abstract paintings on the wall. Edgeworth pulled their room’s key card from his pocket, sliding it into the door. He pulled on the handle and opened the door, greeted by the scent of clean sheets and coffee.  
“I’m going to take a shower. Then make sure you brush your teeth.”  
Fletcher sat on the bed, swinging his feet as he watched Edgeworth disappear into the bathroom. He heard the shower switch on, and the room filled with the sound of water hitting the bathtub and a slight whirring from the shower itself.  
Fletcher took a minute to think. Edgeworth’s constant coddling made him feel more little than it should, and he hadn’t gone into headspace since the mission started over four weeks ago. He could afford five to ten minutes whilst Edgeworth was in the shower, right?

Fletcher let the giggle he’d been holding in slip out. He burrowed into his suitcase and found his stuffed lion and pulled it close to his chest. He flopped onto his stomach on the bed and grinned. It felt good to be little again after so long.  
All was good until Fletcher felt a twinge in his bladder. He rushed to stand up and ran to the bathroom, but remembered Edgeworth was still in there. He bit his lip anxiously, beating his fist against the door in hopes that Edgeworth would hear him. He didn’t, and time seemed to grow slower and slower as Fletcher squirmed. He collapsed against the door and slid down to the floor, grabbing his crotch tightly. The drink still floated around his system, and just as the shower flipped off, Fletcher’s body gave in. He let out the most tremendous sob as the warmth spread between his legs and pooled beneath him. He cried out, pulling his knees up to his chest.  
“Fletcher?” Edgeworth called worriedly from the other side of the bathroom door. Fletcher didn’t respond, only letting out a howl.  
Edgeworth pulled the bathroom door open, only just catching Fletcher as the man fell against his shins.  
“E-Edge,” Fletcher managed to squeak between sobs, wrapping his arms around the techie’s legs.  
Then it clicked.  
“Sh, sh, buddy. It’s gonna be alright,” Edgeworth gently hushed Fletcher, returning the loose hug.  
“We’ve got to get you up off the floor, hon. Can you stand up for me?” Fletcher nodded weakly and pushed himself off of the soaked carpet, immediately leaning into Edgeworth’s side.  
“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”  
Fletcher nodded with a sniffle.

Edgeworth ran a bath for Fletcher, who spent the entire time looking sorry for himself as Edgeworth helped him clean up. His movements were lethargic as he stepped out of the bath and was wrapped in a huge fluffy towel by Edgeworth. Edgeworth dried him off and ruffled his hair until it no longer dripped with water, then found him a bathrobe.  
“Hop into bed, kiddo. We’ve got a plane to catch tomorrow.”  
Fletcher looked at Edgeworth with fear in his eyes. “Plane?” he asked timidly.  
“Yeah. Are you okay with that? I can ask Miller to see if we can drive instead, but the plane’s a lot faster. And its private, so it’ll just be us and the pilots.”  
Fletcher nodded, subdued, but okay with going on a plane.  
“Seriously, kid. Get some rest, hm?”  
Fletcher nodded once more, pattering over to the furthest single bed. Edgeworth followed him, picking up Lion (Fletcher’s stuffie) and tucking the lion under the boy’s arm. Edgeworth gently tucked Fletcher in, before heading to his own bed.  
*  
Fletcher was shaken awake somewhere between headspaces, mind fuzzy. Edgeworth loomed over him.  
“Come on, kid, we’re gonna be late for the plane.” Edgeworth was frantic, tugging Fletcher out of bed and throwing clothes onto the ruffled sheets. He began to help Fletcher get dressed, when Fletcher said “I- uh, I’m not little,” with bright red cheeks.  
“Oh,” Edgeworth said. “Well. Put those on and hurry your ass up.”  
Fletcher laughed a little and did as told.  
He slipped on his shoes, and started to tie the laces, but his hands slipped. He tried again with the same result, letting out a frustrated grunt.  
“You need any help?”  
“No.” Fletcher retorted. He tried once more, but his hands fumbled, and he dropped the laces. His shoulders slumped in defeat and he turned to face Edgeworth. He let out a begrudged “maybe.” Then a “yes.”  
Edgeworth rushed over and speedily tied his laces, then pulled him towards the door.  
“You got everything?” he asked. Fletcher nodded.  
“Wait—” Fletcher said as Edgeworth had one foot out the door. “Please don’t tell anyone about what happened last night. I- uh, I have my reasons for it.”  
“Reasons or not, I really don’t mind. And of course I’d never tell anybody.”  
Fletcher gave Edgeworth a genuine smile. “Thanks… I mean it.”


End file.
